The diary of Allison Reynolds
by Alyson-Isgrove
Summary: Erm, it's my first fanfic, and it's based on Allisons diary, a week before the detewntion. It's going to carry on when i'm ready, but please be kind with reviews!
1. Monday

Monday  
  
Good morning. Actually no, it's NOT a good morning. Then again, what do I expect. I got up to find that mum and dad had already gone. No big surprise there. It's not like they usually wait for me. But just once, it would be nice if they stuck around and said good morning to me, or even offered me a lift to school. I hunted around for my clothes at the bottom of the wash basket, and put them on, not bothering to wash them. As an afterthought, I threw on some air freshener to mask the stale smell of pizza. I must be really stupid, because my mother ALWAYS forgets to wash my clothes and yet I still live in hope. Anyways, I grabbed my bag and threw in my books, before throwing on my coat and leaving for school. I quite like the walk to school. Most people complain about it, but I like to watch the world. I sometimes set off an hour early, so that I can make my trip before school and not have to rush. Today is Monday, so I make my way towards Baker Street. I walk round to the back of number 54, climb on to an old dumpster, and peer in through the windows. I sat for thirty minutes, and in that time I watched the Carlson family get ready for their day. I know their name is Carlson because it says it on their mailbox, but I have given each of them names, just for fun. The little boy, who is nine or ten years old with sandy hair and dimples in his cheeks looks like a Joey, and so that's what I called him. This morning, he is having a fight with his little sister Natalie. It doesn't last long, as Sandra their mother tells them off and they make up with each other, Natalie offering Joey the crayon that had started the fight. They then sit, smiling and happy, munching on their cheerie pops until its time for school, when Sandra packs them into duffel coats and takes them out the door. It sounds kinda dangerous to spy on people, but I've been doing it for years and I've never been caught. Sometimes I take my notebook and draw sketches; one of Joey leaning over Natalie, protectively, one of Sandra giving both of them a hug, the childrens' faces lighting up with joy and laughter. I like Sandra. She looks after her children. She spends ages making sure they're okay. If I had kids, that's how I'd want to be. Sometimes, I can picture myself in that family, happy, loved. I bet she'd ask me how my day had gone. I bet she'd make sure there was food in the freezer for me if she went out. All too soon I had to leave, and I trudged to school. I hate my school. I cope okay in classes, as I have a sort of agreement with the school. I don't bother them, and they don't bother me. Teachers don't mind me, because at least I don't cause disruptions, although they do get worried sometimes when my homework gets a bit carried away and they stare at scenes of death and destruction staring out from maths work. So, today was maths class. I always struggle with my work, but the teachers don't pay me much attention, as they are usually trying to separate some of the rowdier kids form their fighting, or trying to get John Bender to at least sit down, and release his choke-hold from the neck of another student. Today was fractions. I sat and doodled over my book. I got quite engrossed in getting the faces of the choir singers jut right, singing to the creepy old castle, that I almost didn't hear the bell go. I didn't like lunch, not that I ever do. It's always the time when I feel most alone, so I try to make it end as soon as possible. I usually just grab my dinner, eat it without chewing, and then go to the art room. When I got there, I relaxed. I like the art teacher, Mr Newman. He's the nearest I've got to a friend in this place. I mean, he's a bit old, but he doesn't mind me coming up to the art room at lunchtimes, and he sometimes comments on my work. Today, I was drawing in chalk on a black piece of paper. I was doing a drawing of a beach, with nobody on it, clouds hanging ominously over the sky and the surf crashing soundlessly on the shore. Mr Newman came over, nodded his head, and walked off. It wasn't much, but this unspoken praise filled me up, and I had to leave then so as not to cry. I wish I had friends. I finished the rest of the day as silently as usual, but by the end of it I was desperate to be off. I guess most people think I'm rushing to get home, but they'd be wrong. No, my first port of call is the local nursery school. I don't have to pick anyone up. I just go and stand there, and watch until every child has been picked up. I can't explain what it's like to stand there, only that little children don't see me and judge. Some of them even offer me a chocolate button from one of their grubby hands. After they are all gone, I go and sit in the park. I watch all the families playing Frisbee, and the teenagers going out on first dates. I feel really old, as I'm so separate from all of it. When the light starts to fail, I head down to the local café, and sit and test out how long one milkshake can last. When it's finished, and I finally have to go home, it's late. I let myself in to a dark house, as none of the lights are on. Mum and dad must have gone out partying again. I don't look for a note, as I know there wont be one. I get myself ready for bed listening to one of my cd's at full blast. I wonder what it would be like if I lived with the Carlson family? 


	2. Tuesday

Tuesday Today started off slightly better than yesterday, in that I'd bought milk the other day in the supermarket, and so there was enough left to make breakfast. I had also remembered to iron and wash some clothes, so at least I didn't smell so bad. Yes, today was definitely a good one. I set off today with my sketch pad in the opposite direction to the day before. I took the longer rout to my destination, as I wanted to go past the corner shop to buy myself a drink for school. I walked towards it and a group of boys were hanging around outside. I recognised them from my geography class; they were the ones who always threw paper at the teacher and generally set fire to things. It made me interested that all I had to do to get called a 'basket case' was to be quiet and wear black, whereas these guys set fire to things and just because they're in a group, nobody says anything. Anyway. I could see them, and so I stooped forwards in the hopes that they wouldn't recognise me. Unfortunately, luck is never on my side. "Oi loner" They yelled at me, and they started flicking bottle caps at me. I decided that maybe I wasn't so thirsty after all, so I turned and walked quickly away, listening to their jeers until I turned the corner. When I was out of earshot from them, I sat on the floor and cried. A couple of people passed me in the street, but they all ignored me. I'm used to that. "Stop it Allison, you're being stupid" I told myself, and pulled myself together. Cursing, I realised that I'd missed my chance to look in on the family I was planning on visiting. Not only that, but I was late for school, not that that bothered me. "Oh well" I thought, "There's no point in going in now". Our school had a strict policy on lateness (If you weren't in one of the football or cheerleading groups that is), but the chances were, nobody would miss me if I didn't show up. My mind made up, I went down to the lake. The lake is one of the good spots in Shermer. It's kinda quiet and desolate, a lot like me. I guess that's why I like it so much. I've done quite a few sketches of it actually. There's a makeout point further up the hill, but generally nobody comes down here, which means that I wouldn't be disturbed. I walked dwon and sat on the pier, which jutted out into the lake. Rummaging round in my bag, I took out my sketch pad and an apple, and began to draw. I only noticed the time when the trees started to cast shadows on my book, and I realised that it was four o'clock. I decided to leave the lake then, as I had missed my family this morning, and wanted to make sure I was back in time for the evening trip. I realised I would miss seing the school, but sacrifices must be made sometimes. And anyway, today was time to visit the Jung family, and I couldn't miss that. Last time I'd been there, there had been a massive argument, and the little Jung, who was about eighteen years old and whom I had named Sally, had been packing bags. I wanted to see if she had left for good this time. When I got there, it was hard for me to see in the window, as someone had moved the pile of crates I usually used as a boost. Obviously someone had wised up to me. Nevertheless, I couldn't just leave. Hiding my bag round the back of their apartment, I looked for something to help me get up. There was nothing. Eventually I realised that the wall dividing their house from the next street ran along their back garden, and that if I could climb in I could easily have a good view inside the house. Hoisting myself up on the wall, I climbed along it and dropped silently out into the yard. Walking towards the house, I found one window that I could look Into. It was quite high up, but I could still see in if I stood on tiptoes. It was a room I'd never seen before, but looked as if it was the living room. Someone was cooking with their back to me, and I guessed it was the mother, Mrs Jung. As she turned sideways I could see she was talking to someone, and a minute later Sally walked in. My heart filled with joy when I realised that they had sorted out their differences, and I laughed. Suddenly they both looked towards the window, and I realised with a sick jolt that they could hear everything! Racing to the wall, I just managed to climb over it in time, before they came running out of the back door and yelled at me. I raced all the way home, before I realised that my bag had been left back at the house. I walked all the way back to get it, but by the time I got there it had started to rain, and so by the time I let myself in to my house I was drenched. Played my Prince record to cheer me up, but it didn't work. Smashed two jam jars, as someone once told me that bad things happen in threes, although I think maybe I'm getting too many threes. Drew myself a bath, and took some cold pizza out of the fridge for tea. Went to bed thinking I'd been wrong this morning. Maybe it wasn't such a good day after all. 


	3. Wednesday

Wednesday  
  
I was really ill this morning, and so the first thing I did was to run into the bathroom to be sick. I think maybe it was the cold pizza I had for tea last night. Thinking about it, I think it'd been there for a couple of days. After I'd splashed my face with water I felt a bit better, so I went and found my favourite black sweater to cheer me up. Now, most kids would take the day off if they were ill, but that's because they could sit on the couch and watch tv and have their mum bring them cups of chicken soup. Well, it's not so fun by yourself. I used to enjoy it when I was little, but now I think it's better to be in school. I grabbed my sketch pad and left the house, not trusting my stomach enough to have breakfast, and headed down the road. The air was kinda crisp, but not cold this morning, and after a few minutes it made me feel a lot better. Walking is the best cure for sickness any day. I went down Highfield road today, and sat outside the pet shop for a bit, as my legs were a bit wobbly. I saw a kid walk past with a bright red, gooey lollipop. She was about eight years old and dressed from head to toe in sickly pink, her ginger hair only adding to the effect. It should be made illegal in my eyes. I didn't have much time to spend at houses, and when I got to number 56 it wasn't that interesting. It must have been bingo the night before, because Mr and Mrs Davies were both sleeping soundly in twin armchairs. I drew a quick sketch of them, trying to capture the slight smile on his face, or the way their hands just touched, comfortable in their existence together. I got to school just on time, and took my place at the back of the class. The guys from the store yesterday were writing something rude about Mr Doherty on the board, something about the Irish and their performance in bed. I looked around briefly, and there was a guy in my class looking at me. He has scruffy clothes, and a cigarette was tucked behind one ear. It unnerved me a bit, so I looked away quickly. The lessons were really boring, but luckily nobody had noticed I was away. I wasn't really surprised – I've missed weeks before without anyone noticing. Iwent up to the art room again, and worked on a clay model, although my clay kept going dry. There was a boy in the room, and he passed me the bucket of water. I smiled at him to say thanks, but he'd already looked away. It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. After school I went down to the lake again. It loked totally different to the day before, as the sky had a pinkish tinge to it, and it left reflections over the water. Somebody had tied a small boat on to it, and it was added to my pictures. I was really glad I'd packed an apple in my bag the day before, as it meant I could munch away on it at the same time as sketching. The time carried itself away, and so when I decided to go it was getting quite dark. I started the climb back through the trees to the road, when I heard laughing and jeering. A group of teenagers had made their way down from makeout point, probably with the intentions of skinnydipping, and had seen me. There were seven of them in all, three girls and four boys. One of the boys was trying to see how far his tongue would go down the nearest girls throat, and two of the girls were giggling together. One of the other boys lurched towards me, several bottles in his hands. I backed off, but found a tree behind me, stopping me. "Hey, it's the basketcase form school!" he slurred at me, lurching nearer. "Hey girlie, want some vodka? Come on, it'll make you cool". By now he was so close to me I could smell the stale mix of alcohol on his breath. I started to panic, and so I pushed him away from me and ran past up the hill. I could hear them all laughing, and his mates talking about his 'new girlfriend' but luckily nobody followed me. I ran all the way back home and locked the door on my room. Only then could I collapse, shaking on to my bed. I suddenly realised that my stomach was rumbling, and I hadn't had more than an apple all day, so I went downstairs. I'm naturally skinny, and so at one point I tried not eating to see if my mum would notice. She didn't, so now I always make sure the fridge is stocked up. When I came downstairs I noticed that my parents were home watching a television programme. "How wa your day Allison?" My mum called, and my heart leapt, but then I realised that she had already started talking to my dad, and answering would be pointless. I grabbed a couple of slices of bread and buttered them, Pouring sugar and cereal over them, I sat down at the table and ate it quickly. I left the plate in the sink, as washing up the plates is the one job my mother actually remembers to do. Today was tiring, so I sank into bed gratefully. 


	4. Thursday

Thursday  
  
I am so mad at everything today. I feel like throwing everything around and shouting, but the truth is that nobody would notice, and I'd be the one clearing up at the end of it all, so it isn't worth it. I got up today, and my mum was still home. I got my breakfast together, and she didn't even look up. No "Morning honey" or "Hi sweetie" or even "Do you want a lift". Even a grunt or a slight twitch of the face to show my presence was noted would have been fine. But no, nothing. I felt really mad, and so I suddenly blurted out "How are you today mother". The word mother seemed so alien coming from my lips, and my whole sentence seemed to hang in the air, waiting for an answer. None came. She picked up her things and walked out the door. Oh well, at least I tried. I trudged along the road towards school in the rain, and I could tell by the cloud that it was going to stay like this for most of the day. I went straight to Mr Duval's house, and looked in through the window. Some might say that it is wrong to look through the window of a teacher, and probably most of the people at school would say I was in love with him, but I think his house is interesting. He has loads of wacky things like milk bottle collections and wide fans and all sorts of maps everywhere. Nobody seeing Mr Duval in his stiff suit with his stiff personality would place him in the house, with its freeness and interesting air, but he really does live there. And I must be the only one in the school who has seen him sit meditating in a cotton throw with three friends every evening. Today he was feeding his three cats, which I named William, Mary and Elizabeth, as I guessed that a history teacher would be likely to do the same. He didn't just put the food down like a normal person, but he sort of 'danced' them to the floor, with weird hops and skips and twisty arms. I drew a few sketches of him before leaving and trudging up the road to school. I had Mr Doherty again, and again the class was noisy and disruptive. Mr Doherty tried in vain to teach the class, first the subject, then anything he could. With a sick feeling I noticed that a few of the guys from the lake the other day were in my class, and they sure as hell noticed me. One of them got up and walked towards me, and started leering something about getting me impregnated. I was really scared, and he kept walking towards me, when suddenly he fell. Nobody but me noticed the boot that had stuck out to make him fall, and so it was only me who looked up as the guy went back to his seat, and connected the boot with the same scruffy guy who had stared at me the day before. I mouthed 'thanks', but he just stared for a second, before pointing his fingers at me, like the barrel of a gun. Slightly dazed, I did the same back, but he had already turned away. The rest of the lessons dragged by, before I could get to the art room at lunch time. Mr Newman took me by the shoulders when I entered the room and guided me to his desk. I stood and waited patiently whilst he rooted among the disorganised clutter, before he handed me a small metal tin. Inside where a collection of charcoals and dark colours. "I think you are ready for them, and they could help with your style of drawing" he said by way of explanation. I knew how prized his art equipments were, as he was always complaining about budget cuts, so I tried to give them back, but he wouldn't let me. "Use the force" he said with a smile, before disappearing into the cupboard. I looked around for a while to find something to draw with these new tools, before finding a picture of a bridge. It was broken down, and covered in a wintry glow. That was to be my next picture. I memorised it, and then drew a few sketches. I decided to get it perfect, so that I could show Mr Newman that his faith in me wasn't unfounded. The rest of the day went by quickly. I didn't do any actual work, just worked on my art, but nobody noticed. I left quickly, but to my dismay the drizzle of the morning had turned almost torrential. There was no use going to any houses, as all the curtains would be drawn, and the rain would ruin my sketchpad anyway. The rest of my day ruined, I went home. I made myself a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich and took it to my room, not even bothering talking to my mum. As I sat in my room, I thought of how it would be nice to have a friend, so that I could tell them all about my day. I imagined that they would find the same things funny as me, and I could take them on my drawing route. It's silly though, inventing people. It's what people laugh at you about, and why I got sent to the guidance councillor at school. He is really stupid, sitting there telling me "It's not healthy to spend so much time on your own, so much time drawing". What does he know? He's never been me. I played my favourite prince record for a bit, before doing my homework. I thought I may as well. I then spent a while doing sketches of the things in my room – a pot plant, my desk. I went to bed finally, because I was bored, rather than actually being tired. 


	5. Friday

Friday  
  
The weather was still dreary today, although the driving rain of yesterday had turned into a steady drizzle. I hunted around for my kohl for about ten minutes, before finding it behind my bed. I thought for a second about not wearing it, but it's my protection form the world, my mask, and I knew I couldn't leave without it. I went downstairs and made myself some toast, before getting my stuff ready for school. My dad was just leaving as I put my coat on, and to my surprise he stopped and held the door open. I stood amazed for a second and he said "Come on then, can't have you walking in the rain". I followed him meekly to the car and he drove me to school, both of us silent. I got out and leaned forwards to say thanks, but he had already driven off so I walked in. It didn't matter that he had driven off, as it was the most he's done for me in a while. I had pe today, which is the worst lesson in school. I got changed into my shorts and t-shirt, both of which are way too big for me. I couldn't find my gym shoes today, so I had to borrow some from the office, and they were a size too small so that I walked like a duck. The worst thing was that they were a bright, new white, which contrasted so sharply with the rest of me. We had netball today, and we all had to stand waiting to be picked. I don't know why I even bother to turn up to the class, as everyone knows I'm going to be picked last. As predicted, I was. The two team captains were both in the popular groups. An athletic looking guy called Andrew and a pretty looking girl called Claire. Both started by picking their friends, and then on to the respectables. The geeks were the next to go, until it was left between me and a guy who had a weight problem and suffered from asthma. It was Claire's turn to pick, and she walked up and down between us for a while, before finally "basketcase". I was very torn between being thankful that I'd not been picked last, and mad that she didn't even bother with my name. The game went on, but I just stood watching. I didn't run for any balls and I didn't try hard to catch any either. I could probably be okay in the game but I'm not going to put myself out for someone who doesn't even know my name. I went out into the yard at recess and sat on the grassy bank drawing. I was trying to improve my bridge drawing, and it was coming along, but there was still something missing. Suddenly a shadow fell over my page and I looked up to see a group of kids standing over me. "Yo freak" the nearest one said. "You know working outside of school time is wrong". I stared back at them defiantly, although I was a little scared. One of them suddenly reached forwards and snatched my sketchpad from my hands, throwing it round. I stood up as he waved it round in my face, taunting at me. Suddenly, I lost control and spat in his face, kicking him in the shin at the same time and snatching my book back. Without waiting for a reaction I raced for the school gates and didn't stop running until I was well clear of the school. I couldn't go back now, so I spent the morning wandering aimlessly round the town. I went into a café and ordered a muffin and a coffee at lunchtime, before going to the fountain and sketching the stone angels. After a couple of hours I got bored, and so numb with the cold I got up and went over to the other side of town, to check out The Bailey family. This was more risky, as if they spotted me they could tell my parents, as Mrs Bailey plays bridge with my mum. I knew she'd be in, as she rarely leaves the house; staying in to look after her elderly mother, but I was surprised to see that the eldest of the children, Annie Bailey was home too. I climbed on to the low wall and leaned in to the window, putting my fingers on the frame of the window and pushing it gently. It opened a few inches and the sounds from inside started to drift out. Annie was draped over the sofa watching cartoons, and Mrs Bailey was tidying up several crisp wrappers, which were littered around the floor. "Leave me alone mum!" Annie whined, and Mrs Bailey gave her a soft slap on the legs. "I'll not have you lying round the place watching television" She replied, "If you're going to be suspended you can help with the bloody housework. Now shoo, into the kitchen with you and do the washing up". Complaining loudly, Annie left the room. Mrs Bailey watched her leave, and then settled quickly into the seat, putting a soap opera on the tv. I tried not to laugh at Mrs Bailey's cunning, but I did sketch her, with her pink fluffy slippers up on the coffee table. When I got back home I made myself some pasta, sitting on the worktop to eat it. I made myself a cup of coffee and took it up to my room, sitting and reading on my bed whilst taking sips from it. I heard my parents come in and put on music, and loud talking and laughter came from downstairs. They must have invited friends over again. I needed the bathroom but when I got there it was occupied. I waited, and a tall blonde lady came out. She stopped when she saw me and said "Who are you!" I told her I was Alyson Reynolds, and she looked surprised for a second, before walking off muttering "I didn't know they had a child". I went back into my room and suddenly felt really sad, so I got changed and cried to myself as I fell asleep. 


End file.
